


Summon All the Courage You Require

by starksquill



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-09-18 02:32:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9362132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starksquill/pseuds/starksquill
Summary: Thomas hasn't met his soulmate, and at the age of 24 that's not exactly usual, but he already hated the person.The word ‘fuckstick’ has been imprinted on his arm for his entire life because of them.





	1. What Comes Next?

**Author's Note:**

> based on Tumblr post: Soulmate au where instead of having the first thing they say tattooed on each other, they instead have a random sentence tattooed that that person will say around them. And so you know it’s not just a coincidence when they say it, the tattoo stings and fades away.

_What a fuckstick._

Thomas hasn't met his soulmate, and at the age of 24 that's not exactly usual, but he already hated the person.

The word ‘fuckstick’ has been imprinted on his arm for his entire life because of them.

Well, Thomas could have met his soulmate by now and still not know it. The words tattooed on his skin is a sentence that they'll eventually say to him but not necessarily the first words that'll be said. But, honestly, Thomas feels as though if he had met someone who has the word ‘fuckstick’ in their vernacular he would know.

_____________

_I made you mac and cheese, you piece of shit, and this is the thanks I get._

Alexander snorted as he put his shirt on and got a glance of the sentence written on wrist. He isn't quite sure what to make of it. Going off of his soul mark his soulmate is quite the character but if their fated to spend their life with him then Alex really didn't expect any less.

Alex was pulled out of his musing when he heard a crash coming from the hallway followed by the room to his dorm opening and slamming shut. With a sigh he finished buttoning up his shirt and turned around to see his friend John leaning against the door breathing heavily.

“What's up, Alex.” John slumped against the door, “I was just… you know…”

“Were you fucking with the Red Coats again?” The Red Coats being the most obnoxious frat ever. They were from the rival university. And their alumni owned a lot of the surrounding bars and taxed the shit out of the alcohol. Dicks.

John smiled impishly before answering, “They make it so easy, babe.” He finally evened his breathing out and sat down on Alex’s bed, “You ready for Washington’s class today?” He said with a sense of nervousness, which confused Alex because ‘American History’ was their sit back and chill class. Hell, they even ate lunch in there with Washington sometimes.

“Yeah, sure.” He answered, sitting next to John. His answer was met with a scoff.

“You seriously don't remember what today is?” When John was met with a blank look he continued, “Our oral exams, the debates that are worth thirty percent of our grade?”

“What the fuck?” Was all Alex could think of as a response, “When did he announce that?”

“It was on the Syllabus.” Oh, that made sense. He never read those things. Should probably start if this is anything to go by. John carried on saying, “You shouldn't worry about it, we don't get the topic and person we're debating against until we get to the class, it's not like you could have prepared.” John finished his sentence with a smile directed at Alex which was more comforting than his words of reassurance.

“Plus it's a debate,” John said enthusiastically, “You can argue your way out of and into anything.” He paused for a second, “Remember when you got free food for life from that one McDonald's down the street.”

“They gave me nine nuggets when I ordered a twenty piece,” Alex grumbled, sounding as if he was reliving it, “That is unacceptable.”

John giggled before standing up and pulling Alexander with him, “Alright, we should head to class now.” Alex let himself be dragged out of the dorm, already tired.  
______________

Jefferson really wished he had remembered that they were debating today. But, he didn't and of course Madison was amused by this. Thomas wasn't all that worried about it though. He always thought of something to say.

“Now, I'll be pairing you up and have you debate real issues that the leaders of our nation handled,” Washington explained, “I will not let history sway my opinion and I will choose a winning argument based on the merit of the words not on if it was the winning side in our textbooks; and remember this is not subject to a class vote the only person you have to convince is me and me alone.” He continues to explain the rules before he said something that caught Jefferson’s ears, “You don't have to win the debate for full credit, but if you do happen to win, by a margin, there is extra credit opportunity.”

That set the class tittering. While Washington was a universally loved teacher, his class was also one of the hardest. How he maintained his status of the best teacher among the student body while also having the highest failure rate was beyond anyone. He was just a good guy. And just further proving he the point he was a great guy he made his next announcement.

“I know that you are all under the belief that you will be doing your debates today with no preparation but even I realize that is a heavy order to ask; after all if the founding fathers had an opportunity to prepare for a cabinet meeting, so should you.” He took a breath before continuing, “You will be partnered up today and in your pairs you will decide who is taking what side. You are tasked to write a research paper on the topic, _together_ , and it will be due four weeks from today, the day you'll also be debating.”

“Alright, I'll begin listing the pairs and their topic.” Washington announced, “Adams and Arnold: Should the America enter World War 2 prior to 1942… Burr and Madison…Mulligan and Jameson…”

Thomas was able to drift off as Washington droned on. He was a little disappointed that Madison was taken, by Burr of all people. He hoped he got a semi competent partner at least as he didn't want to waste his intellect on some stuttering moron. Also, if he was writing a research paper with them he really didn't want to be carrying the partnership.

“Laurens and Schuyler: Women's Suffrage circa 1870s,” Thomas snorted at that pairing, knowing that Angelica was going to destroy the kid, “Jefferson and Hamilton: Should America Enter the 18th Century French Revolution,” That wiped the smile off his face. His brain froze as he tried to process that sentence. When it finally did he let out an audible groan which was met which a chorus of chuckles from the surrounding students that could hear him. Which frustrated him to no end. The _Jefferson v Hamilton_ feud was a notorious one that was known throughout the entire campus. For many students listening to them squabble was a source of amusement. Apparently it was for Washington as well if he set them up for a debate.

Ugh, he didn't know what about Hamilton annoyed him. It could be his horrendous political ideas or maybe it was that short motherfuckers incapability to shut his mouth. And he knew his dislike was mutual, it was kind of hard to miss. Thomas wasn't quite sure why or when they started to hate each other, which was kind of ridiculous because they were adults, but it was a staple of his college experience at this point.

Whatever, at least he knows he was guaranteed a good grade on the paper. If there was one thing that anyone could count on it was the fact that Hamilton didn’t do shit in halves.  
__________

“Fuck Washington. Fuck this project. Fuck Jefferson.”

“That's a lot of fucking, Mon chou,” Lafayette chuckled, “Are you sure you're up for it?”

“Fuck you too.” Alex responded, annoyed beyond belief. Which only seemed to further Lafayette’s amusement.

“I don't see why you're upset, you already argue with Jefferson all the time,” Hercules said, “Now you're just gonna get graded for it.”

“Yeah, but now he has to work with him.” John answered for Alex, “Before, he was allowed to storm off in anger; he’s can’t storm off if he’s in the middle of an assignment. He is left to sit, boiling with rage. He now has no outlet for him melodramaticism.”

Hamilton just huffed. He realized that he may be acting like a child but he didn't care. Because he was now he was tied to Jefferson for an entire month. He wonders if Jefferson will just let him write the essay himself and be done with it. At least John was being sympathetic. Sort of.

As soon as Washington dismissed the class he shot of out the room like a bat out of hell. While most hung back to chat with their partner, Alex ran. He knows he'll have to talk to Jefferson eventually, but he didn't want to. He walked to his favorite café a couple of blocks off campus. Lafayette, Hercules and John followed about ten minutes later. And that's where he currently was wallowing. Sitting at his favorite corner table by the window, all of them huddled around the table that was meant for two people to have a quiet chat not four overzealous college students who did their best to be heard with every word they say.

“Maybe you'll get to know Thomas,” Lafayette suggested, “He is a great friend to me, I don't see what you dislike about him.”

“Let me count the ways,” Alex snorted, “He's arrogant, self-righteous, aggressive, annoying-”

“You literally just pointed out all of your flaws.” Hercules grinned.

“Excuse you, Alexander is flawless!” John exclaimed in mock anger.

“Yeah, I'm not annoying,” Alex joined in, “You're annoying.” He said, in the most dignified voice he could muster while flinging a kindergarten insult.

“While this verbal battle of the wits is entertaining,” Lafayette cut in, “I must be off, I have a business to attend to.” As he rose, Hercules followed.

“And I'm really enjoying listening to you complain about Jefferson but he's my ride, so bye.”

And with that they were off.

“I gotta go to,” John said, “Angelica wanted to start the project today; which you should probably get to doing as well.”

“Yeah, I'll text Jefferson or whatever.” Alex conceded,

“Do you even have his number?” John questioned, gathering his things.

Alex only grunted in response.  
_____________  
**Unknown Number:  
hey its Hamilton i got ur nmber frm Lafayette**

**Me:  
Why am I not surprised you text like a five year old got a hold of an iPhone?**

**Unknown Number:  
First of all: fuk u Secondly: when do u wnt to strt the thng for Washington**

**Me:  
We can start tomorrow. We can either do it in your dorm or at the library because I am not inviting you to spend any time anywhere near where I live.**

**Unknown Number:  
Pls, like I even wnt to U probably sleep in a coffin And we should do it at my dorm I may not be allowed in the library atm**

**Me:  
How the fuck do you get banned from the library?**

**Unknown Number:  
The same way u get banned frm any othr place ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯**

**Me:  
Whatever, I'll meet you there tomorrow at 3:00.**

When Thomas got no response after five minutes he figured no response was Hamilton’s way of saying he was okay with them meeting at 3:00 o'clock and he tossed his phone onto the desk he was currently working on and sighed.

Thomas at his best was a compressed ball of anxiety. At his worst he was a de-compressed ball of anxiety that exploded on everyone he interacted with.

So, at his best he was taking ‘Anxiolytic’ and at his worst he was not.

But, somehow- that little fuck- Hamilton wormed his way past the meds that were telling him to chill out and was able to talk right over them. When he spoke to Hamilton he has to go over every word he says a million times in his brain before saying it. Which was difficult because with Hamilton it was already hard to get a word in edgewise with him speaking at light speed. 

And what frustrated him to no end was the fact that he didn't know why Hamilton was able to do that. Yeah, he still gets nervous talking to people but he’s still able function around them.

And now that he was going to be seeing Hamilton tomorrow to work on their project and have another rousing argument, because let's face it that's what it will devolve into, he was doing that over thinking thing again. Already planning what he should say and what he should wear. And god he shouldn't sound like a fifteen year old going on a date when he's it's Hamilton's dorm that he was going to. To work on a term paper. But he was and he couldn't help it.

After another half and hour of pretending to do something productive at his desk Jefferson finally decided to turn in. At 9:00 pm. He was really living the life.  
________

Green or red? Green or red? Green _and_ red? No that's stupid.

Alex has been standing in front of his mirror for about ten minutes deciding on a shirt to wear. Which may seem irrational. Because he's not actually going to be leaving his dorm and the only person who he's going to be seeing is Jefferson, whose opinion doesn't matter at all to him, but it's not irrational. There is nothing wrong with a guy wanting to look good for himself. Just himself.

His roommate, Aaron, was watching him fuss with a look of annoyance from his bed.

“Do you have a date or something, Hamilton?” Burr questioned,

“No.” Hamilton answered quickly and before Burr could question him further he turned around and thrusted the two shirts into his face, “Green or red?”

Burr rolled his eyes before answering, “They both look nice.” He said shortly, “Why are you so worked up over looking good?” He continued his previous line of questioning.

“I'm not.” Alex managed to answer without his voice cracking-which seemed to happen to his at the most inconvenient times for him-and went to put on the green shirt because fuck Burr and his non-decisions, “I care about my appearance,”

“Since when?” Burr laughed.

Alex groaned wondering how he managed to surround himself with such assholes. At least this was practice for what he was going to deal with when Jefferson arrived.  
_______________


	2. Wait For It

“Hello, Jefferson, welcome to my crib.” Was the sentence that greeted him when Hamilton swung the door open to his dorm. What a nerd.

He stepped through the door and gave Hamilton a once over. He was wearing a forest green button up that complemented his olive skin tone. The sleeves were rolled up revealing the younger man’s forearms. He was also wearing dark skinny jeans that seemed a little tighter than necessary. Thomas wondered if he was dressed up because he had plans later. He then stopped that train of thought and averted his eyes in favor of sizing up the dorm.

“It’s not a complete dump,” Thomas declared looking around at the room. His room and Hamilton's room were architecturally identical but the similarities ended there. While his dorm was painted a pale purple color, Hamilton had elected to keep the walls white. And his room was spotless, courtesy of his and James’ southern upbringing, this room looked like a tornado had torn through it. While what he assumed was Burr’s side of the room was bare, Hamilton’s side was a mess. On the wall there were sticky notes that looked like forgotten reminders Hamilton had pinned up in the moment and never bothered to look at. There was also notebook paper pinned up covered top to bottom in writing. A few posters were taped up over his headboard. They were those stupid little motivational posters that a middle school English teacher would hang up. One read “ _If You Stand for Nothing, You’ll Fall for Anything_ ” and another “ _A Well Adjusted Person Person is One Who Makes the Same Mistake Twice Without Getting Nervous_ ”. His bed wasn’t- of course it wasn’t - made. 

Overall the room looked like a place a healthy adult could live, “I’m mildly impressed you can actually take care of yourself.” He praised Hamilton with only the barest hint of condescension. 

“Don’t get too impressed because Burr does like 99% of the cleaning,” Hamilton crossed his arms, saying it in a tone that suggested Hamilton thought he just one upped him with this revelation. 

“Okay, whatever.” Thomas responded, “Let’s get started.”

Hamilton looked like he wanted to say more but stopped himself. Which was truly shocking. Thomas was working under the impression that the shorter man genuinely possessed zero impulse control.

“Would you like a drink?” Hamilton asked suddenly, his voice sounding strained, “I have tonic water and alcohol.”

“How are you even alive?” Thomas asked incredulously. He was ignored by Hamilton, who instead started rifling through the drawers of his desk.

“I was told that I should try to be civil so i’m going to be upfront; I don’t have time for any of your bullshit.” He called over his shoulder, without malicious but by no means warm. 

“That’s you being civil?”

“Yeah, my point is-” Hamilton turned to face him with a journal now in his hand and took a deep breath which was indicative of his queueing up to give one of his infamous speeches, and God help him if he had to listen to Hamilton ramble. So, he decided to take control of his life and cut Hamilton off.

“-I won’t fuck around as long as you return the favor.” He interrupted the shorter man. He was effective in stopping whatever Hamilton was going prattle on about. Interrupting him also seemed effective in annoying Hamilton, which was a plus. 

“Okay, cool. We’re on the same page,” Hamilton concluded “Let’s get started.” He gestured for Thomas to take a seat at his desk. He sat down and began to pull his laptop out of his satchel while Hamilton plopped down onto his bed. He leaned against his headboard and opened his own laptop, “I’m assuming you know about what went on with the French Revolution?” The question caused Thomas to scoff because _of course_ he knows what happened during the French Revolution, he was not an imbecile. Hamilton seemed to take the scoff as confirmation to his question and not indignation and barreled on, “Good, just so you know I’m am taking the side of America not entering the war. Don’t even try to fight me for it.”

“You think that I agree America was right not to support the French during their revolution,” Thomas said in disbelief. 

“Well, duh,” Hamilton rolled his eyes, “It was the smart thing to do.” 

“It was cowardly and disloyal thing to do.” Jefferson shot back, “We signed a treaty that specifically stated that we would help them if something like this were to happen.”

“Yeah, because honoring a treaty with a dead guy is totally a priority when our country is at its most fragile.” Hamilton argued heatedly, 

“Isn’t your best friend French?” Thomas asked.

“Are you saying I would bring our country into the shitstorm that was the French Revolution because it would make my friend happy?” Hamilton asked, “I love Lafayette but come on. Really? Haven’t you ever heard that the needs of the many outway the needs of my favorite French man.” 

It was astounding how Hamilton really did think he had it all figured out. The little fucking hobbit.  
_____________________

They had been working for about an hour.

Okay, that wasn’t true. They had been arguing for about an hour. It was probably longest they had sustained an argument. Beating their precious record of forty-five minutes. 

It had been at a Christmas party that the Schuyler sisters threw. Somehow they had started yelling at each other about the state of America’s economy. It was all kind of a blur. It ended eventually with Madison and Burr pulling them away from each other. 

He was usually pissed when Burr dragged him away from Jefferson by his collar but he could now appreciate why it happened. Every point he threw out was shot back and refuted with another one. A normal person might be tired after arguing for an hour about a revolution that happened two centuries ago but he once spoke for six hours about the importance of having more representation in the college to the board of administrators of the University; he didn’t shy away from a lengthy argument. The problem was people weren’t usually so _resistant_ after this long. He could usually win an argument on sheer determination. Even Washington tired hearing him talk at this length and would dismiss him. Normal people usually gave up after twenty minutes - and only lasted that long if it were something they were particularly interested in the topic. But Alexander doubted Jefferson was that into the French Revolution.

Actually, he heard from Lafayette that the guy was, as a matter of fact, super gay for France. So, maybe he was this passionate about the French Revolution. 

“-the people were leading!” Jefferson exclaimed.

“We went over this. Leading and rioting are two different things.” Hamilton stated. He needed a Red Bull. Or a Monster. Or both. Eliza told his not to go around mixing energy drinks but she didn’t grasp the detail that he was only alive because he ran on spite and caffeine. 

“We aren’t getting anywhere.” Jefferson groaned. 

Well that was a surrender if he had ever heard one. And he had. 

“I think we’re doing wonderfully.” Alex shrugged, “We definitely have the debate part of this assignment down pact.” 

“Shocking,” Thomas drawled, “Who would have thought you and I would have managed to perfect the art of arguing so quickly.” He sang in a thick southern accent that was far too melodramatic for the moment. It caused Alex to snicker. The laugh bubbled in his chest for a moment. Alex could almost construe what Jefferson said as friendly - or fond - teasing. But then he remembers it was coming from Jefferson and decided that he was being ridiculous. Because Jefferson was his mortal enemy. 

Mortal enemy may be a bit extra. 

Jefferson was his arch nemesis. 

So, he stopped smiling and rose from his spot on the bed that he had been occupying for the hour, “I think we’ve got enough done for today.” Which was not true. They didn’t get anything done. But, Hamilton wasn’t worried about it. He could churn out an essay in MLA format that was a couple thousand words in his sleep, “Let’s call it a quits for today.”

Jefferson silently agreed and then stood up at his full height. He was nearly half a foot taller than Alexander. Which sucked. 

“When do you want to meet with me next?” Jefferson asked but carried on before he could answer, “Tomorrow isn't good for me. So, after Washington’s class on Thursday would be ideal.” 

“Okay, sure.” Hamilton shrugged, not able to find anything wrong with the time, “See you then. Bye!” Okay, maybe he was being an asshole but who cares. 

“Aw, trying to get rid of me so soon?” Jefferson pouted, “I thought we were finally starting to get along.” He looked down at Hamilton with a lazy smile on his face. And that really made Alex wonder how such an asshole was allowed to have such a great smile. Seriously? He had dimples. Fucking dimples? 

“Yeah, as much fun as it would be for you to stick around you can’t,” Hamilton lifted his chin, “Because I don’t want you to!”

The taller man was still smiling as Hamilton basically pushed him to the door. When they got to the door Alex swung it open and gestured for Jefferson to leave with a smile. After a moment passed and Jefferson didn’t make a move to leave, Hamilton dropped his arm to his side and let out an exasperated sigh. Nothing was ever easy for him. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay,” Jefferson leaning against his doorframe, “I can make a mean Mac and Cheese.” He continued to intentionally annoy Alex. This _asshole_. Where did he get off jus-

Wait. 

“You make Macaroni and Cheese?” Alex demanded, “Like, that is something you do?” He pressed. 

Jefferson squared his shoulders hearing Hamilton’s shift in tone. Going from annoyance to something else entirely. “Yeah...it’s my favorite meal.” He answered with narrow eyes. Not quite sure where this was going. And to be honest neither was Hamilton. 

Shaking his head he placed his palm flat on Jefferson’s chest and pushed. And while he didn’t have the physical strength to move him at the moment it was enough for Jefferson to finally huff and walk away. Mumbling something about hobbits but he wasn’t really listening. 

As soon as Jefferson turned the corner and left his sight Hamilton whirled around and slammed his door shut. He rushed over to his grab his phone off his desk and dropped into his seat and immediately opened the group chat. 

******ME:  
** ************gUYS  
******Dudes  
**my friends  
**a n s w e r******

****LANCELOT:  
**what is wrong, mon petit lion** ****

**  
**

**LAURENS <333:  
** ******yea man what the fuck do i need to fight someone  
**i’ll do it****

**  
**

**HOT PANTS:  
**im on a date this better be important****

**ME:  
**jefferson likes macncheese** **

****

****

**LAURENS <333:  
**well someone alert the media****

**  
**

**LANCELOT:  
**i could have told you this, my friend****

**ME:  
** ************no no no  
**guys  
**he also //makes/// macaroni an cheese****

****

****

**LAURENS <333:  
** ******im lost  
**literally who gives a fuck****

**  
**

**HOT PANTS:  
** ******is this about your soulmark?  
**alex not evry one who makes mac and cheese is going to be your soulmate****

**ME:  
** ************but he offered to make me some?  
********explain that  
**you cant  
**check mate****

**LANCELOT:  
**He offered to cook you dinner?****

**ME:  
**he may have been mocking me but GUYS this is serious****

**LAURENS <333:  
** ************dude ur being an idiot  
********Chill out  
********think about what ur saying  
********U think jefferson is your soulmate  
**Thomas Jefferson  
**J E F F E R S O N  
**forreal******

**ME:  
** ********…  
**ur right  
**i rly need to get my shit together** **

Hamilton sighed and put his phone down on the closest surface to where he had been pacing. It happened to be the mini-fridge.

John was right. He was an idiot. Thinking Thomas Jefferson was his soulmate. He snorted at how absurd the thought now sounded. He was probably just tired. He had been up until six am last night perfecting a term paper for his creative writing class. He just needed a nap or something. 

Alex glanced at the clock that read 4:47 pm. It was still early but he was exhausted. Christ, it was only Tuesday. At least he didn’t have any early classes tomorrow.

Deciding it was still too early to sleep Alex just climbed into bed and opened his laptop and began typing. He wasn’t quite sure where it was going to go but he needed to empty his mind. 

As he was typing his thoughts drifted back to Jefferson. Their argument about France. The Virginian’s exaggerated southern accent that he probably would have considered hot if the source of it wasn’t Jefferson. He thought about how firm his chest was when Hamilton pushed him out of his room. How pretty his eyes looked when he was teasing him. He never really had the chance to look into his eyes before seeing as they were always surrounded by friends and in the heat of the moment when they argued in class or outside. 

Hamilton continued to let his mind wander for a moment. Before he realized again he was thinking about Thomas Jefferson, a man he has despised since the beginning, as attractive. 

He shook his head before silently promising to listen to Eliza and actually get some sleep for once in his life. Being tired was obviously starting to take a tole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took forever but i sort of like it! thanks to everyone who read, commented and gave me kudos for the last chapter! it seriously means a lot!!1!!


	3. Non-Stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for 100 kudos!!!! And to anyone who commented, it means so much!!

“How did your study date with Hamilton go?” James asked casually over their usual cup of morning coffee at their spot, the Son of Liberty, on campus. 

Thomas looked up from his phone to send a glare at his old friend from across the table, “It went about how you'd expect. We argued. Didn't really work. He got kind of weird, like weirder than his usual amount of weird, toward the end.” He had. They had been going through their usual thing. Then out of nowhere Hamilton interrogated him about his interest in Mac and Cheese and then physically pushed him out of the room. It was strange even for the man. Which was saying something because this was a guy that was often found talking to himself. “And it wasn't a date.” He tacked onto the end of his summary. He huffed at the mere suggestion of it.

“Okay, but you wish it was.” He decided. 

“What would give you that idea?” Thomas wondered shifting in his seat and crossing his legs. 

“You asked out a pretty girl in eleventh grade and when she said no you sulked for a week,” Jemmy started, “And when Hamilton told you to fuck off when you tried to talk to him after class, Thomas, I swear you sulked for an entire month.” 

Okay, that wasn’t fair. Two completely unrelated situations. 

As a teenager Thomas mostly kept to himself. For all his showboating he was an introvert at heart. He had started High School in France. It was a private school and Thomas had enjoyed it quite a bit. He always possessed a fascination for the French. Then his mother had complained to his father about missing Virginia and their home in Monticello so they had promptly moved back. 

It was good and bad. On one hand while living in France he was never able to fully grasp the language. Even now, nearly a decade later, he struggled having a conversation with a native speaker. On the other hand he was plucked out of his school and put into an entirely new one in the middle of Sophomore year. It was really a sixteen-year old’s nightmare. 

He was introduced to James his first day at the new school because the Principal had assigned James to be his tour guide. After that James and he had remained very close friends. And it would be so that Jemmy was his only close friend during High School. He had others he affiliated with but none that he found interesting enough to try to pursue a closer relationship. So when he met Martha Wayles and had found himself drawn to her he was surprised. Seeing as he had never been interested in anyone intellectually, being so young and having only desired physically at that point, he hadn’t known what to do. They had became good friends after a while. Summer came and went and then they were back at school. Thomas thought it would be genius to ask her to Homecoming. She didn’t seem to agree.

She turned him down. She said while she liked him, she just didn’t _like_ him. After that rejection Thomas hadn’t spoken to anybody for a week. Including Jemmy. Martha had felt terrible and Thomas knew it wasn’t her fault. Even so it had taken a while for them to get through that rough patch. Now they were still good friends. She went to a different college and they tried to talk at least once a week. 

It had taken him a while to recover from that blow to his ego. He dated after that but he never personally asked anyone out. He always was the one to be asked out. 

Now with Hamilton it was an entirely different thing.

It had been the first week of the semester. The first day of Mr.Washington’s class. And the first time he had ever met Hamilton.

His first time seeing Hamilton was when the man in question showed up ten minutes late to Washington's class. His first thought was, _Woah, cute kid_ , which he loathed to admit, even to himself, that that was an opinion he held about Hamilton although it was only for second. His second thought was, _Uh oh, cute kid is going to get rekt because even though it was the first day of class, he and everyone else knew that someone didn’t show up late to Washington’s class. Seriously, people called him the General for a reason_.

So, imagine his surprise when Washington simply nodded at the tardy student and continued on lecturing. And it wasn’t only him who was a little surprised. He and Adams had shared a glance. Wondering if reports of the General’s strictness were over exaggerated or if this boy was somehow special. The former seemed unlikely considering they were only in Washington’s class for a few minutes and he already seemed to have the highest expectation any human being has ever put on any of the students in this class. Then that meant that the boy was special. This naturally left Thomas curious as to how the boy was special. 

That curiosity led to him to approaching the kid, Alex, Thomas overheard a guy with an absurd amount of freckles call him Alex. 

He had approached Alex in an attempt to extend an olive branch. He went up to him with the intention of friendship and of course the shorter man had rudely told him to ‘fuck off’. 

And for a time after that incident he may have been a little upset that he had been treated so rudely. But he certainly wasn’t moping after it. Especially after sharing the class with Hamilton and learning that, no he wasn’t special, Hamilton was a asshole in general. 

He learned from observance and experience that Hamilton was opinionated, loud, brash, and unbelievably self-righteous. 

He felt the need to explain this to Madison, if for no other reason than to get him to stop looking at Thomas like he knew something that nobody else was in on. “I didn’t sulk. I was disgruntled by his dickish behavior.” He surmised. 

“I mean, yeah, I agree that Hamilton was, still, and will always be a dick but to his credit you did introduce yourself and call him ‘quite possibly the shortest human being on earth’ in one breath.”

“Whose side are you on.” Thomas grumbled and drank what remained in his cup of coffee. 

When James offered a smirk in lieu of an answer, Thomas decided to change the subject. 

“How are things with Dolley going?” Was Jefferson’s smooth transition to a new topic. 

“Amazing,” James said, either not noticing Jefferson’s awkward shift from talking about Hamilton or now too caught up in thoughts of Dolley to comment on it, “But I guess that's to be expected when you're with someone who fate put on this earth to complete you.” He sighed before continuing, “I know you don't really believe in the entire soulmate system, but just you wait. Once you meet your soulmate and get to know them, it's crazy man.”

Thomas rolled his eyes at the statement. He really did believe the entire premise was ridiculous. That you didn't have a choice. You should just sit back and let fate decide who you were going to marry. He had seen first hand how the soulmate system was flawed. His sister had found her soulmate and the relationship was a mess. But now she was married to a man who knew that he wasn't her soulmate and loved her nonetheless. 

He was a little biased. Most people in society covered their soulmark when out in public. Although, a fair amount of people left it uncovered because maybe the mark was a common phrase like, _alright, cool_ , or they were proud of words like, _you're really hot_ , being written across their wrist. But most people did buy a mark cover, which was basically a nice looking wristband. The thing was most didn't buy it until high school. 

Thomas on the other hand had to cover it from birth. When his mother read his soulmark for the first time she was mortified. As a high society socialite, she couldn't handle the thought of her associates seeing the word ‘fuckstick’ tattooed on her sons body. So, he wasn't fostered in the most soulmate friendly environment. It was funny. How he was always to wear a mark cover and resented it as a young child but now in college, away from his parents demanding, he never took it off. 

After going through all the emotions everyone supposedly felt; longing for a soulmate, resenting his soulmate, and accepting that meeting his soulmate may take a while; before he even turned fourteen, Thomas spent a majority of his life feeling indifferent about the entire soulmate thing. 

He was going to eventually hear those words. And then he'd experience a tingly feeling in his arm that signaled that, no it wasn't a coincidence, he was in the presence of his soulmate. And then life would carry on. He didn't expect a life changing moment or to have an epiphany and he sincerely hoped his soulmate didn't expect anything special. 

He guessed he'd just have to wait for it to know what will happen.  
____________________

“Hey, are you free tonight or are you going to be with Jefferson.”

“You’re head seems to be, as you say, in the sky; are you thinking about your dear Thomas?”

“You really need to get laid. Want me to give Jefferson a call?

Alexander was going to murder his friends.

All day they had been nonstop with the whole ‘Jefferson is your soulmate thing’ and maybe the first comment was funny and the second jab was a little annoying and by the hundredth joke he was leaning towards homicidal. He had a moment of mental weakness and his best friends were exploiting that moment. Which wasn’t a very ‘best’ friend thing to do. To him it seemed like a ‘worst’ friend thing to do. The only reason that he hadn’t killed any of them yet was because he was pretty sure he’d lose his scholarship. Also, they were kind of the people he held dearest in the world. that seemed to be shifting really quickly.

“Shut up!”He finally snapped after a particularly raunchy comment from Hercules that caused John and Lafayette to laugh uproariously. 

“Methinks the man doth protest too much.” John hooted causing the other guys to continue laughing.

“Don’t use Shakespear against me. Words are my thing, asshole.” 

Lafayette smiled at him with his usual openness, “I don’t see what your problem is with Thomas being your soulmate, Mi Amour. I’m sure he would make a lovely partner. He can be very attentive when he wishes to be.” He reasoned, his voice full of mirth.

“Woah, woah, woah, woah.” John cut in, “Slow down there, Laf. We're just joking. Let’s not go around actually thinking Jefferson is Alex’s soulmate.” 

“Yeah, Lee is more likely to be my soulmate.”

“Okay, let’s not go that far.” Hercules giggled patting Alex on the thigh. He then stood up from the couch where he was sitting next him, “And let’s just agree to not talk about this anymore because I’m hungry and I know Alex isn’t gonna let us eat until this conversation is over.”

John rose from his spot on the floor and trailed behind Hercules looking eager for some food with Alex rising from his spot on the couch to follow suit. Lafayette followed a little more hesitantly from where he was on the floor next to John. He was probably hesitant because they were in the Schuyler sister’s off campus apartment because the girls had the biggest TV ever and the new Resident Evil just came out.

Anyway, last time the guys had a night in at this apartment they had raided the kitchen and Eliza teared into them for it. Alex didn’t personally remember getting yelled at as a result of them all being absolutely hammered. Although, as the designated driver, Lafayette was completely sober and remembered every second of the wrath from the middle Schuyler sister. Laf most likely didn’t care to experience it ever again. 

And the Frenchman decided to voice his concern, “Maybe we shouldn’t pillage the kitchen. Let’s just go out and get something to eat. That way we won’t anger our lovely ladies and we get to end our hunger.” Laf looked very pleased with his idea, “What is the expression.? We are murdering two birds with one rock.” He couldn’t have looked more proud which is probably why Alex elbowed John when he snorted at Lafayette’s ‘mastery’ of the english language. The guy could speak it remarkably well for someone who has only lived in America for five years. Better than a lot of people Alex had run into since he himself had immigrated to the states. 

“The expression is ‘Killing two birds with one stone’ Gil.” Hercules explained.

“Your American idioms make no sense.” Lafayette waved him off, “I like my version of the phrase much better.”

“Yeah, I’m with Laf. His saying is cooler,” John said, perched on the kitchen counter, “Right, Alex?” John shoved him in jest. Of course, as the previous star of his High School football team, he misjudged his strength and caused Alex to stumble forward. Which caused Alex to glare at him and Hercules to laugh. 

“Maybe don't push me to the other side of the universe when trying to get me to agree with you.” Alex straightened up and moved to sit on a stool placed in front of the kitchen counter.

“Maybe try to eat for once in your life, so you don't get flung forward every time I touch you.” John answered. Which caused Lafayette and Hercules to make noises of agreement. 

“Yes, Mon Petit Lion, you are very small. Darling John is correct. Maybe you wouldn't be so slight if you eat more than a granola bar for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” Lafayette backed John up. 

“Okay, can I just live my life without this constant judgment.” Alex asked,

“No.” The three simultaneously replied. 

Dicks. 

“Whatever! Let's stop talking about me-” Alex offered. 

“Never thought I'd hear those words out of that mouth.” Hercules interrupted. 

Alex ignored him and kept going, “Let’s talk about Burr!”

“Ew, no.” Lafayette said in disdain, “Fuck that guy.”

“Okay, let’s talk about Peggy! I heard she found her soulmate.” 

“That's ooooold news.” John dismissed. 

“What about John Adams. What a dick, amirite.” Hamilton was desperate at this time to finally get his friends to stop hassling him. They'd been doing it all day. He supposed he could just leave but then he would have nothing better to do. Plus, Burr told him that he needed the dorm for himself and Hamilton didn't want to walk in on whatever was going on there. 

“What if we talk about Jefferson!” John exclaimed. 

Alex groaned and let his head fall onto the kitchen counter. He had gone all of five minutes the entire day without thinking of the fuck and in the middle of the sixth minute, John brought him up. 

Alex kind of accepted he over reacted yesterday. Just because a guy made macaroni doesn't mean he's his soulmate. But, it left a seed of a thought to fester in his mind. What if. What _if_ Jefferson was his soulmate. Would Jefferson be nicer to him? Would they suddenly start agreeing on everything? Would Jefferson continue to dress like a Disney villain half the time? Would time itself collapse? 

Alex tried not to think about it. But he couldn't stop now that the train started rolling. 

Jefferson wasn't unattractive. As a matter of fact, looking past his obvious personality flaws, he was hot as fuck. So the thought of waking up next to him didn't make him gag. 

But by soulmate standards that wasn't good. Your soulmate standard shouldn't be they ‘don't make you gag’. It should be they make you feel safe and loved. And appreciated and wanted. 

His parents weren't soulmates. He blamed that fact for his father ditching. Alex wanted to feel complete and he wanted to feel full of warmth and happiness. He wanted his soulmate. 

Maybe that's why he was stuck on Jefferson. 

He was just projecting. He'd get over it. Hopefully before he sees Jefferson again tomorrow. 

Alex was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard the door being unlocked. Looks like the girls were home early. He snorted when he sw Lafayette jump to attention. The Frenchman looked around frantically to make sure everything was in its place. Not that it'd make much of a difference if he noticed anything considering the girls are literally stepping into the apartment right now. 

“Boys! I'd like an explanation as to why you didn't use coasters. Our dad gave us this table, you dicks!” They all heard Angelica yell from the living room causing them all to panic. 

Lafayette grabbed a hand towel to go clean the coffee table in question. He watched while the tall man scrambled to the living room shouting apologies in French. 

Alex followed at a slower pace. Maybe he could talk to Angelica for five minutes without thinking about Jefferson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer than usual to write. Major case of writer block struck.


	4. Helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's the worst that could happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took so long but it's also my longest chapter so?! Anyway, here's a valentine gift! You can message me on Tumblr about the story if you want @hamiltonhistory

This was just awkward.

He’d arrived at the library minutes ago and the conversation just feels stilted. Something was off-kilter. While they never had anything nice to say to each other, they always had _something_ to say to each other. 

He arrived at their meeting five-minutes after the time they had arranged, due to his unwillingness to do anything but a brisk walk from Washington’s classroom to the Prospect building where Hamilton had relocated their meeting to. He said that Burr was going to be a bother today so they couldn’t use his dorm, so he wanted to meet at the library. Apparently he sorted out whatever problems he had with the librarian. The fact that Hamilton had problems with the campus librarian in the first place really summed the man up.

Being that he was late, he expected a reprimand or at least a snide comment from his partner. So color him surprised when he was just met with a nod and ‘I was wondering if you wanted to write this paper together, or just do half-and-half’. 

And, hey, he wasn’t complaining. He thanked the heavens for every second of peace he got in the form of Hamilton not talking. He was just a little freaked. The guy who hasn’t said more than three sentences in the last few minutes couldn’t be the same guy who was legended to have lectured the Board of Administrators of the University for six hours straight about the lack of a strong central leadership. Apparently t ended with him punching the Bursar but that was just a rumor. Thomas didn’t personally believe it. Hamilton was rash but he couldn’t be that ridiculous. 

“So, I’ve started writing a bit,” Of course he has, “Nothing much. I just have it written from the Tennis Court Oath to the Fall of Bastille.” They were sitting on the libraries bean bags, because Hamilton is apparently an actual child, and Hamilton shifted his bean bag closer to his. The smaller man closed shortened three feet separating them and leaned across the few inches that was left in the space between them. He shoved his laptop into Thomas’s lap.

Thomas looked at the word document Hamilton had open. He skimmed the page and found that, unsurprisingly, it was well written. He and Hamilton didn’t get along but it would be foolish to deny his mastery of the english language. It was a shame, really, he and Hamilton could have been good friends; if only the man wasn’t a walking argument. 

After skimming the first page he scrolled down to see how much Hamilton had written. As the pages kept going Thomas grew exasperated. It bottomed out at around nine pages. 

“While I appreciate your enthusiasm,” Thomas said dryly, “You wrote nearly ten pages on a one month period of the French revolution. You do realize that there is another 110 months to conver. At this rate our paper will be a thousand pages.” 

“That would be ridiculous.” Hamilton said without his usual bite, “This is just a draft. I have a lot of thoughts. All of which I need to get out. I’ll edit it down later; it’ll probably end up like a page or something.” 

“What would happen if you didn’t get all of your thoughts out.” Thomas cocked his head.

“I don’t know.” Hamilton seemed to be thinking aloud, “I try not to bottle it up. If I’m not writing, I’m talking. Herc says that’s why I’m always arguing. John says I’m just a bitch.” That caused Thomas to snort. He was glad that even Hamilton’s friends saw that Hamilton was an asshole. He guessed they just had a higher tolerance for it. “There was a time, right after I immigrated to New York, where I just didn’t talk. My social worker called it ‘selective muteness’ but honestly I just didn’t want to speak. I eventually started to talk again.” Hamilton eyes looked far away. 

“Can I ask… why you didn’t want to talk.” Thomas asked hesitantly. He was thrown by the sudden shift in conversation. The underlying seriousness that now tinted the discussion. They always argued and in the moment the arguments always seem serious but then Thomas would get home and realize that he probably got worked up over nothing. This is probably the only time he’s spoken to Hamilton and had any substance behind the conversation. Words like ‘social worker’ and ‘immigrated’. He knew on a subconscious level that Hamilton was an orphan but he never thought about the fact that that meant he was probably a foster kid at one point. And of course he knew Hamilton was an immigrant, there wasn’t a student on campus that didn’t know with the way Hamilton runs around campus acting as every immigrants advocate, but knowing Hamilton was different from actually thinking about Hamilton actually immigrating and having memory of it. Especially considering his very loud love of New York and America. “You don’t have to tell me or anything.” Thomas quickly added on. 

“I just didn’t have much to say.” Hamilton’s gaze wasn’t meeting his. Not that Thomas was attempting to make eye contact. 

“I find that hard to believe.” Thomas tried to lighten the mood.

It worked. Well, it worked-ish. Hamilton smiled. But not his usual genuine and bright smile that Thomas only knew existed because Hamilton smiled like that when Professor Washington praised his work. His smile right now could only be described as meek. 

Hamilton suddenly straightened up, “Let’s get back to work.” He cleared his throat and scooted his bean bag back to where it originally was: three feet away from Thomas, “Have you written anything?” 

Thomas fumbled for his messenger bag. He was a little upset that the conversation shifted from personal back to academic. Which was stupid. He wasn’t here to make a friend, he was here to get get a good grade. He pulled out his laptop, which he probably should have already had out, and opened up his Google Docs. It was only a page but it said what needed to be said. 

“This is on ‘The Declaration of Rights of Man & Citizen’. It kind of takes off from where you left off. It works out.” Thomas shrugged.

Hamilton nodded. His eyes flicking back and forth as he read through the paper. 

“This is good.” Hamilton commented, “You seem to really get the document. Almost like you wrote it.” The complement gave Thomas a brief moment of smugness. Even Hamilton, a guy who despised him, thought he was well written. 

They continued to work in mostly silence. They both took it upon themselves to proof each other's writing first. Thomas, for obvious reasons, took a bit longer to sift through what to keep in and to leave out. 

It seemed that 10% of the paper was factual and the other 90% was Hamilton putting his two cents in. It seemed Hamilton’s style was stating a fact in a sentence and then explaining his own opinion for an entire paragraph.

After finished the proofing they spoke about how they wanted to present the affairs of the French Revolution in the paper. It seemed Hamilton was a bit harsher on the people's style of revolution than Thomas wanted. And Thomas was a bit too eager to agree with what was going down in France at the time. While it could be argued that they could just stay completely non biased, considering it was just a background research paper to set up for their debate, but it didn't look like objective was in either of their vernaculars. They agreed to continue writing as is and let Washington figure it out for himself. Alex contented he wouldn't care if they sat on the fence and didn't take a particular side in the essay; as long as they took a hard stance during the debate in class. This left Thomas wondering, for the millionth time, how and why Professor Washington and Hamilton were so close.

They had been in the middle of discussing what they were going cover and not cover in the essay (the French Revolution was very long and a lot happened and they couldn't exactly write a page on all of it) when Hamilton got a phone call. Which he answered. To Thomas’s annoyance. 

“Yo,” Hamilton used as an answer, “Nah,” He continued after a pause. “C’est toi, bien sûr.” He laughed into the phone. This picked Thomas’s interest. Hamilton spoke French. Or did he? He said some fairly simple words. Thomas knew them. So maybe he was speaking French how most people spoke Spanish. They said what they knew just to say it. 

“D’accord, TTYL.” Hamilton said, ruining his frankly beautiful French with a horrible English colloquialism. Who even said TTYL in real life. 

There was a pregnant pause the moment after Hamilton hung up the phone before Thomas decided to break it, “You speak French?” He asked, in an almost demanding tone but not enough to be considered rude. He liked to toe that line often. 

“Huh- oh, yeah. I'm from Nevis- you probably haven't heard of it- but it's a small island in the Caribbean. Everyone from there is fluent in French there.”

“So, you're fluent?” 

“Well, yeah. Everyone from there is fluent in French.” He repeated his previous sentence. Slowly, almost as to say ‘duh’. While normally this would probably agitate Thomas, it set him at ease. Hearing Hamilton’s salt, that had been missing their entire meeting, return was weirdly nice. 

“Whatever,” Thomas rolled his eyes, for show, and rose from the bean bag chair, “I think we've gotten a lot accomplished today. Let's try to get more done between now and our next meetup.”

Hamilton got up from his bean bag as well. Or at least tried. He struggled to rise himself- muttering about his foot falling asleep- before he gave up and stuck his hand out to Thomas. Wordlessly asking him for help. Thomas hesitated for a second, contemplating leaving him to struggle for another minute or two, before grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet. Hamilton being as small as he is (and Thomas being as strong as he is) flew up, crashing directly into Thomas. 

Not expecting the weight Thomas stumbled back before gaining his footing and reflexively wrapping his arms around Hamilton’s waist in an attempt to steady him as well. 

They stood there like that for a moment. Frozen. Thomas with his arms around Hamilton and Hamilton with his face buried in Thomas’s chest. Thomas could almost feel Hamilton lean into it for a moment- which he had to be imagining- before Hamilton pushed himself backwards out of Thomas's grip. 

“Thanks.” He said flustered. 

“Uh,” Thomas cleared his throat, “No problem. I guess we're done.”

“Yeah.” Hamilton agreed, “I'm gonna…” He gestured awkwardly into a vague direction left before finishing his thought, “I'm gonna go. Bye.” He started to walk away. Before he stopped himself and turned back toward Thomas, “This was fun.” Then he was gone. Leaving Thomas confused. 

Maybe he would make a friend out of Hamilton. And maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. 

\-----------

_Oh my god, holy shit, what the Fuck_

Those were the only thoughts streaming through Hamilton mind for the past five minutes. He was still walking back to his dorm room and was replaying the events that just transpired on a constant loop over and over. 

He fell directly into Jefferson's arms. And it feel warm? And safe? And secure? He liked it? He even leaned into it? What the fuck was wrong with him? Then he told him that it was fun? Why did he say that? What compelled him? Why couldn't his mouth talk to his brain before it started to speak?

Luckily he caught himself before Jefferson seemed to catch him reveling in his arms. 

It wasn't only that moment that he was caught up on. It was the entire thing.

Last night, talking to Peggy, he had a revelation. As he often did when talking to Peggy. She was always easy to confide in. She let him rant about Jefferson and how he couldn't stop thinking about him before suggesting that maybe he couldn't stop thinking about him because he like him. Which he vehemently denied. He explained to her the Jefferson was a dick, who he only ever argued with. To which Peggy suggested maybe if he didn't go into the conversation expecting or looking for a fight he wouldn't get one. Which was absurd because Jefferson always started it. Not him. 

But he promised Peggy he would go into this thing with no intention to argue. He even changed the meeting spot to the library so they could be on neutral ground, luckily he had smoothed things over with the librarian after ‘the Incident’ as John has dubbed it. He personally thinks the librarian overreacted but that didn't matter. He was able to smooth it over rather easily. As Angelica says: he can be rather charming when he needs to be. 

So he kept his promise to Peggy. He actively avoided argument. Even held his tongue when Jefferson was late. 

And it went...good. Like, they didn't leave the place the best of friends but they didn't actually exchange any harsh words. He may have gotten a little pissy towards the end when Jefferson was asking him about his fluency in French but compared to his usual self he was basically Mother Mary. 

And that led into his next point: he told Jefferson some things about himself. Things he 100% did not plan on revealing. Things that he just kept saying and couldn't shut up because it was actually nice to talk. It was nice to casually mention his life as a foster kid without the accompanying pity because his friends _know_ what his life was like with his foster families. And it was nice to mention Nevis without the person he was speaking to immediately thinking about the circumstances of his departure from there. 

It was altogether way too easy to get comfortable around Jefferson. 

He thought about it for a second before pulling out his phone. 

**ME:**  
**okay maybe I like Jefferson**  
**IT FEELS WRONG TO EVEN TYPE**

**PEGGY!!!:**  
**lmao it only took u 5000 years to discover**

**ME:**  
**Shut up aren't u like 12**

**PEGGY!!!:**  
**killer comeback bro**

**ME:**  
**whatevr**  
**what do I do with this information**

**PEGGY!!!:**  
**get ur man????**

**ME:**  
**ha**  
**ok but forreal that's not happening**

**PEGGY!!!:**  
**tell him whats the worst that could happen**

**ME:**  
**he could hear me?**  
**I gotta go byyyye**

**PEGGY!!!:**  
**tell him!! Ttyl. Also I didnt miss that Friends reference u nerd!**

Hamilton sighed and shoved his phone into his pocket. He finally arrived at his dorm. He opened his door and flopped onto his bed. The room was empty. Burr was probably with his super secret girlfriend. 

He sighed before running through his thoughts again. 

One: He kind of spent time with Jefferson and enjoyed it. 

Two: He spent about thirty seconds in Jefferson's arms and really enjoyed it. 

Three: He has developed a rather spontaneous crush on Jefferson. 

Four: He was fucked.

Alex scrubbed his hand over his face. His gathering of thoughts helped nothing.

This was all Jefferson's fault. If he hadn't been teasing him about macaroni (of all things?) then he wouldn't have considered Jefferson being his soulmate and he wouldn't have considered what it would be like to date him. And he wouldn't have discovered that it may be nice to date him.

Also, what the fuck was Washington doing when he paired them up. He knew better than anyone what it was like when those to occupied the same space. 

Ugh. His thoughts made no sense. 

He sat up in his bed and grabbed his journal and a pen. While he loved typing, because he was able to get his thoughts out at a much quicker speed, nothing beat the good old fashioned paper and pen. 

He was just gonna write. Whenever his life had been in turmoil before he could always just write his way out of it. Normally his problems were less abstract than crushing on a guy he thought he hated but he was adaptable. He shot the guy's a quick text saying that he wasn't gonna be able to go drinking tonight. Sighting a headache. They asked if coming over would make him feel better, which was sweet and almost made him feel a little bad for lying, but he said no.

He looked down at the black page in his lap and went at it. Normally he would write whatever ideas he had on his mind. Once he wrote for five hours straight, trying to compile a list of everything republicans have ever done wrong. This ended up being too much for even he to handle. But now he wasn't writing about the economic situation that America was facing or Puerto Rico’s debt crisis. He was writing poems. Something he hasn't done since he was a eighteen and in love with Eliza. 

He wrote everything that he was currently feeling and apparently he was feeling rather sentimental about how Jefferson smelled spring. How he couldn't seem to sit still for an extended amount of time but still exuded a calm and collected demeanor. How he curled his lip when he was concentrating. And that he had very soft skin. How his hand was cool to the touch when he grasped it for help up. How firm his chest was. His arms- seriously the guy should not be allowed to wear a tank top it was positively obscene. 

Hopefully, he would get over this little crush as quickly as he had developed it.


	5. The Story of Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He always knew- or at least thought- he was going to die young. That’s when he started to write like he wasn’t going to live to see the next day. 'Cause he probably wasn’t going to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never say never Tjeff

Alexander doesn’t like the quiet. He never has and never will. 

After his father split, his mother got really quiet. His brother stopped saying much when his mother died. After his brother was taken away Alex himself didn’t make a lot noise himself. 

From the outside looking in Alex had a chaotic and unstable upbringing. But he himself had personally felt it all happening in slow motion. He had gone through each loss and tragedy completely and painfully aware of every downfall and felt every moment with crushing urgency. Knowing that every second led him further and further away from his dream. His need to make a difference. His drive to leave something behind to live on for him. To carry on his legacy. 

He always knew- or at least thought- he was going to die young. That’s why he started to write like he wasn’t going to live to see the next day. 'Cause he probably wasn’t going to. 

A work ethic he still employed. 

Burr gets pissy when Alex wakes him up at four in the morning typing on his laptop. Or with his desk light, writing in his journal. Or whatever else he was doing. But it was habit that Alex couldn’t shake. Not that he wanted to. 

The point being he never liked the quiet before and being in America didn’t change that. That’s part of what drew him to his friends.

He met Hercules while he was in foster care. They went to the same high school and when his family of the month got to be too much for him, the Mulligans let Alex crash at their house. Hercules’s mom loved him and his dad was the rare being of a positive male figure in the immigrant’s life. His older sisters thought Alex was adorable and spending time at Hercules’s house was the first time in a long time that Alex felt happy. 

Then with Hercules introduced him to John. Alex’s kindred spirit. The three of them quickly became the bane of every teacher’s existence. If a day went by without a fight breaking out, then they were all out sick. Alex could literally see the hair on Principal Greene’s head turning gray. It was quite the feat. But they were manageable. They could all usually subdued with a threat to call home. Hercules’s parents had the whole ‘not mad, just disappointed’ look down to a science. John’s dad being a senator meant that he was kept on a pretty short leash. Alex just didn’t want to get sent away from his current family; not because he was attached to them but because he didn’t want to be lose his friends. 

The teachers were always worried that their trio would grow to a quartet or quintet or whatever a group of six was called. Hercules had even taken to taunting the dean by implying that they were starting to recruit. Which was an almost laughably absurd notion but the simple phrase ‘tomorrow there’ll be more of us’ had the staff sweating. 

Then the school got a new foreign exchange student. 

Lafayette joined them midway through their junior year and quickly became apart of their merry band of idiots. They garnered the nickname 'The Revolutionary' Set from the teachers because of their tendency to rally the students in the cafeteria to rage against the machine. Alex didn’t remember what they were always going on about during those lunchtime protest but he still looked back on them fondly.

They became less susceptible to punishments after Lafayette arrived. The french boy happened to placed with two of the most influential figures in Virginia. George and Martha Washington. Hands down the best human beings that Alex had the privilege of knowing.

Being that George and Martha were such venerated members of society, the school was never too keen to call them up and explain to them that Lafayette had been acting a fool. And because they didn’t call the Washingtons, they couldn’t call any of their other families because school policy dictated that they give every student involved in any single incident the same punishment.

With that the school had just one means of punishment left. Detention. Which managed to backfire in a way that Alex saw coming from a mile away. 

Detention consisted of the four of them locked in a room for an hour with whatever unlucky teacher that got assigned for detention duty that day. Needless to say they had a ball messing with any and every adult that presided over them. 

By senior year the school had given up on trying to keep them in line. The teachers had became progressively endeared by them and they all got good grades. Hercules and Alex both got a full ride to King’s College. Lafayette and John might have gotten scholarships but they had no reason to apply for it since they were both pretty well off.

So it wasn’t like they were destroying school property or doing drugs. They were just some teens trying to make something out of nothing.

That's what lead to where he was now. Sitting in the passenger seat of John’s car driving to their Microeconomics class in complete silence. There wasn’t even any music playing. What the fuck.

“So…” He broke the silence, “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing.” His answered was clipped. That didn’t bode well for Alex. 

“Really? Because from the way you're squeezing that steering wheel it certainly looks like it’s something.” John self consciously loosened his grip. “Now care to tell me what you’re thinking?” He asked again.

John bit his lip and glanced at him through his periphery, “You know you can tell me anything. Right?” John blurted out. “Because you can. I’m your ride or die.” Alex smiled at that. 

“Yeah, of course.” He felt something akin guilt twist in his stomach. 

He didn’t have any reason to feel guilty. There wasn’t anything to feel guilty about. He didn’t have anything to tell John. He just had a crush. Sure, historically when he liked someone he would immediately run to his friends but it didn’t mean anything that he didn’t do that this time. It just that this was different and Alexander knew that John wouldn't like this because it was Jefferson that he was talking about. Having a crush on Eliza was a lot different that having a crush on Jefferson. Eliza was a beam of sunshine and had a smile that could probably bring world peace if everyone in the world had it directed at them at least one. Jefferson, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. While, okay, Alex would admit that the older man had a smile that could light up a room in a way that rivaled Eliza's, Jefferson utilized it differently. He was charming to an almost manipulative extent. And Alex could a hundred percent see why John hated the guy so much. Just a week ago he would have agreed with John. But something changed between then and now and Alex wasn't quite sure what it was but he felt it. He felt himself become less annoyed with Jefferson's presence and more appreciative of it. He felt himself beginning to listen to what he had to say. Like not just hear his argument and react but actually think about what was being said. It was still completely and utterly wrong but at least now Alex could see where Jefferson was coming from. 

That being said, Alex knew that John wouldn't be able to feel what Alex now felt. And he accepted that. Right now he was just avoiding the explosion that came in the form of John Laurens temper when he found out that Alex- Alexander Hamilton- had the hots for Thomas Jefferson.

Hercules would probably be more accepting, if not a little bit confused. Lafayette would be ecstatic. The french fuck had been trying to get the two of them to get along since he had first came into contact with Jefferson. 

It was just John’s reaction he was worried about. 

That meant he was lying by omission and as far as fucked up things that he has done goes it was pretty low on the list. 

“You’ve been antsy that past couple of days.” John voice was unusually soft, “And I’m scaling that based on your personality because you are an already antsy person.”

“I’m just a little bit stressed.” Alex didn’t exactly lie, “I knew I’d regret taking five classes.” He tried to inject some brevity into the conversation. And judging by the way John’s jaw clenched he wasn’t buying it. 

Wonderful.

“Remember when we promised to tell each other everything? Free of judgment.” Alex could tell John was trying to keep any frustration he was feeling out of his voice but it wasn’t working. Alex could read him like a book. Probably because they told each other everything but that was neither here nor there. “I just want you to know that that deal still stands.” 

“Same to you.” Alex replied, “Can I ask what this is all about?” John couldn’t know he liked Jefferson already. Alex just barely found out. 

“Nothing.” John shook his head. “Just reminding you.” 

The car lapsed back into silence. Not uncomfortable. It was never uncomfortable between them. But it lacked the usual playfulness that wove through the air when the two of them were together.  
______________________________

“Sorry- I- you can go first-” Thomas racked his mind the mastery of the english language he was so infamous for because right now he could barely string a sentence together. 

“No.” Hamilton insisted, “You go ahead. It's cool.” He awkwardly gestured for Thomas to step through the doorway that they were both stopped in front of. 

This was the first time they were interacting in two days. Since what he had dubbed the Library Incident. 

James told him he was overreacting by labeling it an incident. Thomas would normally be inclined to agree with James when he said Thomas was reading too much into a situation because he was known to do so but he knew he wasn’t reading too far into whatever the hell was going on with Hamilton. He knew something had to be going on with the shorter man. He wasn't conjuring up the uncomfortable atmosphere that shrouded the air at their last meeting. Which was very similar to the energy that was present during the end of their first meeting with. And he certainly wasn’t misreading the current tension between the two of them while they were trying to- to- to what? Out polite each other? 

They had been standing in front of the door for at least a minute- certainly blocking a few people from leaving- while they both _insisted_ that the other go through first.

Thomas knew it wasn't him making things weird. He was an awkward person but he was also raised by a socialite and therefore knew how to pretend not to be a mess. He was able to fake confidence with the best of them. And after sometime he mostly came into his own and wasn't faking it anymore. Thomas was generally a self-assured person nowadays. He knew he was hot. He knew he was charming when he wanted to be. He knew he was a rather skilled writer and a great intellect. 

He was still crushingly anxious and lived for validation. But those things were now more easily managed with some self-assurance. 

What he didn't know was why Hamilton had suddenly gone from the man who greeted him with two middle fingers every morning (figuratively with one literal occurrence) to the man who had accidently bumped into him on the way out of their shared ‘Microeconomics’ class and insisted on Thomas going first. Just a week ago Hamilton would have bitten his head off for bumping into him. 

A week ago he would have given Hamilton an earful just as well. 

Why wasn't he giving Hamilton an earful?

Oh right. Because the man had dumped his life story in Thomas's lap and was suddenly less of this supernatural entity that was sent to earth with the specific ability to annoy him and was more of a human being with emotions. 

Thomas knew that Hamilton wasn't born under great circumstances. He was born a bastard and whore’s son. Grew up to be an orphan and an immigrant. Those are some labels that required having thick skin to bear. And Hamilton just so happened to have thick skin. Some would say it he was a little too impervious to ridicule for his own good. A little humility would go a long way for the idiot. 

He always assumed that Hamilton came out of the womb talking shit and starting fights. Thomas figured Hamilton’s thick skin was a symptom of his unfortunate personality and not a side effect of his upbringing. When Hamilton began to speak about his past at the library Thomas realized his presumption was wrong. Apparently Hamilton wasn’t always like this. His lively spirit had developed over time. 

All that aside, Hamilton having it rough didn't give him an excuse now to run around acting like he owned the damn place. He was still a loudmouth bother. He still interrupted Seabury’s lectures and spoke to in class as though he was the one with tenure. He still unwarrantedly acted like a dick. 

But suddenly he was being less of a dick? And that was just confusing Thomas. It was disrupting the natural order. 

Thomas wakes up. Has breakfast with Jemmy. Goes to class. Argues with Hamilton. Has lunch with Jemmy. Complains about Hamilton. 

That was his usual Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. But now that Hamilton wasn’t arguing with him. about ⅓ of his regular schedule was thrown off. Thomas wanted to know what Hamilton’s angle was. He had to have one. 

It didn’t occur to Thomas to actually enjoy this new found peace he had until he spoke to Martha last night. She didn’t understand what the problem was. He hated Hamilton when they fought and now Hamilton wasn’t picking fights. She supposed that Thomas should be thrilled. But she didn’t _know_ Hamilton. Him being civilized to Thomas was surely a sign that a storm was brewing. 

But Thomas had a plan. He was gonna play along. He’d be the good southern boy that his parents thought they raised and treat Hamilton how he treated Thomas. Hamilton would surely break all the niceties before he did. 

If that meant standing at this door all day then so be it. 

“I appreciate it but really you can go through.” Thomas inclined his head, “I'm in no rush.”

“This is fucking stupid.” A voice broke through there stalemate. Neither man willing to walk through the door. “I'll go first.” Hamilton’s boisterous friend that was always attached to his hip barged through the two of them. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here,” Laurens waved a hand between the two of them once he had passed, “But it’s weird.” He then grabbed Hamilton’s wrist and pulled him out of the room with him.

Before Laurens was able to completely drag Hamilton out of sight the smaller man turned to look at him and when Thomas thought he was going to say something, Hamilton just offered a nod and a small smile. He looked nervous. That didn’t make sense though. He was probably tired. He once heard Burr complaining about his roommate who literally never slept. 

A few more people rushed by him to exit the room. All unwilling to interrupt whatever was going on between Jefferson and Hamilton but eager to leave. Thomas wondered if there exchanged looked nearly as tense as it felt. 

Thomas stood still where Hamilton and Laurens had left him for a few moment before James strolled over to him from where he was silently watching Thomas mentally malfunction while talking to Hamilton. James nudged Thomas out the door and they began walking to his next destination. James was free for the rest of the day but Thomas still had one class scheduled. 

“You wanna tell me what that was?” The sickly man scratched him head, “I haven't seen you that flustered in years.” He stopped for a moment to consider something before he carried on, “To be specific- three years. The morning after that party Franklin threw and you-” James was abruptly cut off by Thomas placing his hand over James’s mouth. 

“We don't discuss that night.” Thomas looked James in the eye. He waited for James to agree before removing his hand. “Sorry, we both know that night wasn't my shining moment.” It had been his first college party. He had been to a few High School ones but they weren't his scene. He figured College would be different for some reason. It wasn’t. The only difference was that no one was worried about their mommy showing up in the middle of the rager and shutting the function down. Therefore everyone lacked the self control of drinking moderately. Including Thomas. He ended up shitfaced and while he didn't remember most of the night, he was left with some memories that left him wishing that the FDA approved of cleansing one’s brain with bleach. 

He'd been to a few parties since but only to maintain the image of ‘modern enlightened guy who had no worries whatsoever’ that he upheld. 

“Can we get back to the traffic block you created while leaving Econ.” James redirected their conversation back to whatever point he was trying to make.

“It was nothing.” He knew James wouldn't accept the answer but he might as well try. 

“It was nothing.” James scoffed, “That wasn't nothing. _That_ gave me flashbacks to the fallout of you asking Martha to homecoming. The lack of eye contact. Stuttering. And not just from you. From Hamilton as well. I never thought I see the day where Hamilton struggled to express himself.” James said in disbelief. After a moment of silence where Thomas didn't respond James’s eyes widened, “You didn't do that to Hamilton did you?”

“No, Jemmy, I didn't ask Hamilton to homecoming.” 

James didn't look like he appreciated Thomas's sarcasm.“You know what I mean, dickhead. Did you make a pass at Hamilton?” He leaned in close to him, “I know I was fucking with you before but do you like Hamilton? Like, _like like_ Hamilton.” Thomas groaned and pushed James away from him. 

“Don't be an idiot.” Thomas rolled his eyes. “I don't like Hamilton. There's nothing to like.”

“Well, there was a time when I was friends with the guy. I do know he does have some redeeming qualities.” Thomas often forgot James had a life outside of him and actually was friendly with Hamilton before he had even met the gremlin. “He's a genius. I’d never tell him but he’s probably the smartest guy in any given room he enters..” He was going to assume the Jemmy was discounting when Hamilton was in the room with Thomas. “He’s hot. Objectively speaking. He's not my type but he's right up your alley.” That was preposterous. Hamilton was not right up his alley. He could agree Hamilton was objectively attractive. He had long hair that framed his face well. And when it was up it only seemed to highlight his facial structure. His jawline was covered in facial hair that looked effortless but Thomas had a sneaking suspicion that Hamilton maintained it well. Hamilton also had this manic energy that radiated off of him and it almost to make him glow. Then there were his eyes. Thomas couldn't pinpoint what it was about them but they looked older than they should be. Like they didn't belong to a twenty-two year old. All that being said Thomas wouldn't say the man was right up his alley. “Also, he's got a passion for politics that rivals yours.” Thomas snorted at that. Yeah, the very thing that made them clash would bring them together. What a poetic notion.

“If he’s so great why don’t you date him?.” Thomas huffed.

“And he’s multilingual.” James kept going, “Speaks three languages. That’s your wet dream.” Three languages? Interesting. 

Wait. No. Not interesting. The only thing about Hamilton that interested him was his unwavering ability to annoy him without doing a thing.

"I really have no idea what you are going on about," Thomas dismissed everything James had just said, "I never have and never will _like_ Alexander Hamilton."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote and rewrote this chapter about 1000 times before I actually thought it was readable. But I sorta like the finished product so yay! Sorry for the longest wait ever but I've had a lot going on the past few weeks. 
> 
> Also, this story has reached 2k hits which is unreal. Thank you to anyone who has read, left a kudos, or commented. It means a lot <3


	6. Say No to This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex weighed his options for a second before opening the door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im seeing clipping. in a few week holy shit rip my soul i might actually die im seeing daveed diggs in person r i p m e

“Party at my place.” Lafayette’s voice broke through Alex’s unconscious state. What time was it? Ugh. 

“Be there or be square.” That was a new voice - John? Probably.

Alex groaned at the loud intrusion on his nap and squeezed his eyes shut. “Dude people are asleep here. Be considerate.” He furrowed his head into his pillow and hugged it closer to his head trying to block out the light that was breaking through his closed eyelids.

“Dude.” He heard Aaron start to mock him and mentally began to count to ten, “It’s two o’clock in the afternoon. You are the only human being on campus asleep right now.” Why did Burr only voice his opinion when it was to judge him? 

“Yes, mon petit lion. We wish to, how you say, chillax.” Alex heard someone giggle at the modern colloquialism. He knew that at this point Lafayette was actively trying to use the most ridiculous words that the Oxford Dictionary had to offer just to entertain himself and it shouldn’t be as amusing as it was after years of it but it never failed to make at least one of them laugh. “Wake up and smell the coffee. OrI guess I should say ‘wake up and smell the dirty laundry’ in your case.” He heard the disgust creeping into the french accent, “When was the last time you did laundry, Alexander?” Lafayette sounded scarily like Mrs.Washington as he simultaneously woke him up and dressed him down for being a mess all the while remaining completely poised. Alex was getting serious high school sleepover flashbacks. 

He knew that Lafayette would resort to pulling the blanket off of him to wake him up- because that was always Mrs.Washington’s last resort and apparently Laf was playing by her rule book- so he resigned himself to the unfortunate fact that he wasn’t going to be getting anymore sleep. 

Alex twisted his neck to face the people in his room and cracked one eye open to see who was there and where they were. 

The first thing he saw was Lafayette hovering directly over him. He peeped Burr sitting on his bed with his knees pulled up to his chest as he tapped away at his phone. Probably texting his super secret girlfriend. John and Hercules were loitering near the door looking bored while they waited for him to wake up. Although they managed to find a way to entertain themselves because playing one of those games everyone knew in elementary school where you clap your hands together to a rhyme. 

Alex never really got into those games because they seemed like a waste of time. There was also the fact that he only had one friend- barring James- and his friend was resolute against playing those games because they were ‘for babies’. Whatever. That was in the past. Now he had Laurens, Mulligan, and Lafayette. Plus the girls and maybe Burr. 

“Why is it that I get attacked for never sleeping but when I finally take a break you interrupt me?” Alex suddenly flung the blanket off of his body causing Laf to jerk back, “It's almost as if nothing I do pleases you.” He remained in his vertical position with his arm now melodramatically sprawled over his eyes.

“Don't be a drama queen.” Hercules ended his game of ‘boom, snap, clap’ and addressed Hamilton. “Get up.” Alex huffed at the lack of sympathy he received. “Come on. Up and at ‘em.” 

Alex noticed John begin to make his way towards the bed and quickly scrambled to sit up. He knew John hadn’t forgotten the last time Alex had woken him up in a not too kind way. It involved a pillow and about ten minutes of shouting. “I’m up!” He lifted both his hands in surrender. “I'm awake.” Lafayette grinned at him. At least one good thing came out of his waking. Lafayette’s smile could probably fuel the sun. 

“Wonderful.” Lafayette beamed, “Now let’s get down to business. I'm throwing a party tomorrow. I want it to be epic. ‘Great Gatsby’ epic.” 

“Maybe you should have started planning it before twenty minutes ago.” Alex was used to Lafayette’s partying. The man liked to live fast and free and he liked to drag his friends along for the ride. But Laf wasn’t the guy to throw his own party. His style was usually show up, carouse, and not stick around for clean up. “I don’t think they do overnight delivery for ice sculptures.” He scrubbed at his eyes and tried to wake himself up fully. “Why are you even throwing a party?”

“I'm sick of waiting around for these frats. Now I need your help with the guest list.”

“Seriously.” Alex scoffed, “Of all the party planning things you could put my brilliant mind to work at, you put me on the guest list duty.” How insulting. 

“If you had woken up at a reasonable time you would have been assigned a better job.” Hercules dropped down on his the edge of his bed, “I'm on music. John’s on booze. Angelica is handling snacks. Eliza is making sure her apartment is ready to be turned upside down. And you, my friend, are going to help Laf with his guest list.” He patted Alex on the shoulder. “Have fun.” Alex groaned and swung his legs over the edge of his mattress and rose out of his bed. 

“I’m going to the bathroom and I want a significantly less amount of people in here when I come back.” He stretched his arms above his head to loosen up his stiff arms and scratched at his stubble. He needed to shave. He began walking to the dorm floor communal bathroom while attempting to massage a crick out his neck. 

“Aren’t you gonna put on some clothes.” Burr got his attention as he was turning the doorknob, “In our society it’s considered to be almost a custom to cover our bodies when in public.” Alexander looked down at his body and noticed he was wearing his boxers and nothing else. 

“Fuck it.” Alex weighed his options for a second before opening the door, “The coed students of this building should be grateful to be graced with sight of my body.” John and Hercules wolf whistled at him as he closed the door behind him forcing a chuckle out of Alex. His friend were nothing if not supportive. 

He did garner some looks on his way to the bathroom. The glances varied from annoyed to amused to appreciative. He got one wink from a cocky senior that put a spring in his step. It felt good to be admired.

He got to the bathroom and used it with no more interaction. Thankfully. While he was okay with strangers seeing him in his boxers, he’d rather not run into someone he knew in his skivvies. He was at the urinal when he realized he was wearing his Pokemon boxers. Now he was by no means ashamed of being a fan- Pokemon was fucking classic and totally cool- but it would undermine his cred as a mature scholar. Which he was. He just also liked Pokemon. 

He was turning a corner on the way back to his dorm, that was inconveniently placed what felt like a light year away from his dorm, when he crashed into someone. He heard a soft ‘oof’ come from the person’s mouth. A tall person taking into account Alex’s head barely reached their chin. Male if the firm chest was anything to go by. A familiar chest. Why was it familiar-

The universe hated him. Or was indifferent towards him. Either way he was forsaken at this point. 

“Hamilton.” He heard the smirk in Jefferson’s voice before he saw it. “We have to stop doing this.” Jefferson rested both of his hands on each of Alex’s shoulders and pushed him an arm’s length away. Jefferson hands remained where they were even after they had been separated. Almost as if the Virginian was holding him in place. 

“Jefferson.” Hamilton tried to keep the embarrassment out of his voice and lace it with annoyance or contempt or whatever he was supposed to be feeling when he was in the presence of Thomas Jefferson. “What brings you to this side of campus?” Alex knew Jefferson lived on the opposite end of the university because of a small prank he played on him last year. It hadn’t ended well but the look of Jefferson’s face when he saw the toilet paper covering the building was worth a visit to the Dean’s office any day. 

“I’m visiting a friend.” That wasn’t vague at all, “But that’s not worth talking about.” Jefferson admitting every aspect of his life wasn’t a monumental occasion. That was new. “I would much rather talk about this fashion statement you’re making.” Alex ears burned once he remembered he was standing in front of Jefferson in nothing but his underwear. “Your outfits usually leave me less than impressed,” Asshole. “But I have to say that I appreciate the boldness of this look.” What did that mean? Why we're Jefferson's hands still on his shoulders? His now noticeably bare shoulders. 

After a beat when Alex didn't respond, Jefferson shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I'm going to go now.” He removed his hands from Alex side-stepped him to get by. 

“Wait!” Alex shouted, a little louder than necessary, before Jefferson could walk away. He grabbed the taller man’s bicep - his hand couldn’t even fit his hand halfway around it holy fuck that was information to file away for later- and spun him back around so they were facing each other again. They’ve now swapped positions. With Hamilton holding Jefferson in place. “Lafayette is throwing a party tomorrow. He wanted me to invite some people.” Jefferson did have a reputation for partying. 

“Are you inviting me to a party, Hamilton?” Jefferson cocked his head to the side. 

“Yeah,” Alex gritted his teeth, “Laf, for whatever reason, seems to like hanging out with you.” He left out his own sudden interest in being around him.  
________________________________

“I’ll check my calendar.” Thomas’s mind was racing, “This is kind of late notice.” The observation was irrelevant considering he knew he had no plans for the weekend that didn’t involve Netflix and ice cream. 

“Yeah.” Hamilton didn't answer the implied question. Only shrugged. “Text me or Laf if you wanna go. Laf preferably.” The younger man’s voice was unsteady. It was barely noticeable but it _was_ noticable. “That’s it.” Hamilton all but shooed him away, “Bye.”

“Wait. This is a good time to discuss what we’ve got done.” He sighed at the other man’s blank stare, “Washington’s assignment?” Thomas could see a light switch on in Hamilton’s eyes.

“Right-” Hamilton ducked his head down, “Of course-” He muttered. “Now’s not really the best time.” His eyes darted down to his own body and back to meet Thomas’s eyes.

He was basically naked. In the middle of the day and in public. Thomas was trying to ignore it. After the initial shock of seeing Hamilton in nothing but his drawers and teasing him about it, Thomas didn’t want to think about it any further. 

He was actively trying not to think about the quickening of his pulse when he first looked at Hamilton. He was lean and his boxers were kinda big on him so they sagged; revealing the moderately defined v-cut of his hips. Then there was the full body blush that covered Hamilton down to his bellybutton that his dick took a special interest in. It was truly fascinating seeing the red tint travel from Hamilton’s ears to his stomach in real time. He literally witnessed the man go from annoyed at his presence to flushing with embarrassment when realized he wasn’t clothed. 

He was really trying to block the memory of the feeling of Hamilton’s bare skin. His shoulders were burning in comparison to his own cool hands. His skin was smooth. Didn’t even have any hair on his chest. Thomas would have laughed if his mouth wasn’t so dry.

Thomas was always good at taming his attraction towards Hamilton. He could hide his attraction from everybody. Even himself most of the time. He almost forgot he thought Hamilton was attractive most of the time- unless Jemmy randomly reminded him of the fact at the tail end of a Macroeconomics class for no reason- but it was harder to ignore when he was standing in front of him with nothing but his boxers. And Jefferson still thinking Hamilton was hot even after seeing he wore Pokemon underwear was telling.

“Right.” Thomas kept his answer short now that he was thinking about all the things he was trying _not_ to think about. “We’ve got a lot of time anyway. This is a surprisingly easy assignment coming from a Professor with the reputation that Washington has.” Thomas was entering the territory of small talk with Hamilton which was nearly uncharted ground for them. 

“The easier the assignment, the harder he’ll grade it.” Hamilton explained, “And he already grades pretty hard. Seriously. He’s brutal.”

“How would you know how brutally he grades? The semester barely started.” This was the perfect opportunity to find out his relationship with the Professor with no ulterior motive. 

“I’ve been privy to quite a few of his rantings on students who don’t know how to form a sentence.” Hamilton shrugged. He looked content to leave it at that but went on after Thomas quirked a brow in question, “He’s Laf’s dad. Adoptive. I hung around his house a lot in high school.” Lafayette’s dad was Washington. How had that not come up in conversation before? 

“That’s…” Thomas searched for words, “Cool.” He finished lamely. 

Hamilton offered him an awkward nod that left them in an uncomfortable silence. “I’m gonna go put some pants on.” He self-consciously pushed his hair out of his face.

“Alright.” Thomas rubbed the back of his neck, “Bye.”

Hamilton walked away with no further farewell. 

Thomas watched Hamilton walk away. He enjoyed the view from behind just as much as he did the front angle. After he disappeared from view Thomas shook himself out of his stupor. He pulled out his phone and started typing.

**Me:**  
**You wanna go to a party tomorrow?**

**Jemmy James:**  
**Not particularly**

**Me:**  
**It’s Lafayette’s party**

**Jemmy James:**  
**Ah yes. Lafayette. One of your rare friends that I don’t know**  
**Of course I am immediately convinced I’ll start getting ready now**

**Me:**  
**Jemmy just go with me**

**Jemmy James:**  
**If you want to go so badly go without me**

**Me:**  
**Jemmy please I’m awkward**

**Jemmy James:**  
**Then don’t go**

**Me:**  
**JEMMY**

**Jemmy James:**  
**Alright alright alright I’ll go.**

Thomas did a mental fist pump for being able to convince James to go to a party with him on such short notice. It usually took a little bit longer but he guessed James could feel his desperation through the text messages. 

He went to text Hamilton but stopped himself. He knew from experience that you wait at least an hour after being asked to go out somewhere before texting someone without seeming needy. He placed his phone in his back pocket and walked to the elevator. 

He didn’t know why he was going to the party nor why Hamilton invited him but he hoped both questions would be answered at the party. And maybe it would be fun. Lafayette knew how to have a better time than anyone. Must be the french in him. 

This was good. He needed to let loose. He’d been feeling unusually tense the last week because of the shift in tension between him and Hamilton. He’d spent most of his time thinking about what was happening with Hamilton. The rest of the time he was thinking about why he cared so much about what was happening with Hamilton. This party could be cathartic. 

He could definitely use a release of pent of energy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmu on tumblr @hamiltonhistory pls  
> 


	7. A Winter's Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hamilton discovers a new kink and Jefferson discovers a new emotion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is dialoug heavy and IM SORRY FOR THE WAIT

The turnout was surprisingly good considering they had a day to gather every party hungry college student on campus. The Schuyler apartment was packed to the brim with rowdy young adults drinking, dancing, and hollering to their hearts content. 

The party had even spilled over to the neighbor’s residence. Luckily the girl next door - Maria- was a college student as well and got on well with the girls. 

Alex was even having a good time himself. He wasn’t sure if it was the drinks coursing through his veins or the music that he could feel vibrating through his bones and the bass rattling his ribcage. He was feeling good. It was an hour into the thing and everyone looked like they were having a good time. 

“Yo!” John shouted over the music, “We’re almost out of booze. I’m gonna head out and get some more.” He jerked his head in the direction of the door to indicate he was leaving. Alex just nodded in acknowledgment and waved him off. 

“Get more vodka!” Alex shouted after him.

John turned back to face him for a moment, “No, that makes you fighty!” True but to be fair everything made him fighty. “I’ll get you tequilla!” Alex sighed and nodded in defeat and John turned back around to leave with that request in mind.

Alex scanned the crowd to see if there was anyone else he could pester now that his main victim was on his way to the nearest Liquor Store. He spotted Eliza and considered going to talk to her but she seemed rather engrossed in her conversation with Maria. He would go talk to Angelica and Peggy but they were in the other apartment making sure everything stayed in order over there. 

He was looking for Lafayette or Herc. But he’d take anyone at this point. What he found was while he knew a whole lot of people, he didn’t actually want to talk to any of them.

Standing on the tips of his toes, he craned his neck to get a better look around. How the hell did he invite most of these people and only recognizes a third of them? 

He saw Jay hopping up and down like the fucking energizer bunny. John Adams was there and fuck knows who invited him. He was hitting on Abigail Smith; who seemed interested which was a shame because she was actually really cool. Ben Franklin was playing beer pong and crushing it. 

James Madison was leaning up against a wall looking very put off. Alexander’s pulse began to beat a little faster because he knew that where Madison was that Jefferson wouldn’t be far off. Alex had figured Jefferson decided not to come because he never texted him and Lafayette didn’t mention it. He didn’t even know what he would do if Jefferson happened to be here. It wouldn’t change anything. He'd still be emotionally unable to express himself and Jefferson would still hate him even though they had a weird truce going on right now. 

Then again what better way to befriend someone than drunk. Which he was. Drunk. He's had two pints of Sam Adams and was currently nursing a third one. On top of that he and his boys had taken two shots in preparation for the party right before the first guest had arrived. They figured if they started off a little buzzed before the party the guest would feel more welcome. 

He took a deep breath and looked around Madison's vicinity to see if Jefferson was even around before Alex overthought everything. He didn’t see the asshole and Alex couldn’t be missing him because he’s a fucking giant.

He sighed in defeat when he didn’t see Jefferson emerge from the crowd and perked up only at the sight of finally spotting Hercules and Lafayette across the room. They were chatting with some jock. He weighed the pros and cons of approaching them. He really did want to talk to his friends but he really didn’t want to talk to the guy they were talking to. Alex was just gonna bank on the guy disappearing once he went up to them. Not a foolproof plan but it was good enough for him.

Walking over to them seemed like an adventure all on it’s own. It was harder to walk through a drunken crowd of college students than it seemed. Especially when he himself was drunk. 

He shoved past the swarm of people as best he could. It helped that he was so compact, making it easier for him to slip in between people and duck past others. 

“Monsieur Hamilton,” Laf shouted upon seeing Alex appear in front of him, seemingly out of nowhere, from the mound of people. Alex could tell he was already on the wrong side of wasted with the slightly thicker french accent and the way he was clinging to Herc. “I have missed you my friend.” 

“Monsieur Lafayette,” Alex played along, “We saw each other like twenty ago, man.” 

“Even a moment’s break from your gaze is an eternities past.” Lafayette cooed at him and pushed off Hercules’s shoulders to stumbled his way into Hamilton, “In true love, the smallest distance is too great.” 

“Are you done, Shakespeare?” Hercules laughed and moved away from the guy- that had unfortunately not gone away- and placed an arm around his other shoulder that Lafayette was not hanging off. “Here take this,” Hercules shoved his beer into Alexander’s hands and pointed at the stranger, “Lemme introduce you to Ben.” He outstretched a hand to point at the guy- Ben- and Ben offered him an awkward wave that was kinda endearing considering he was such a muscled man giving off such a feeble vibe.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

There was a gap of silence for a moment before Ben sighed and looked down at his drink.

“I’m going to go now.” Victory, “See ya at the game, Herc.” He slapped Hercules on the shoulder and offered Hamilton and Lafayette a nod before walking away from them.

“Dude, you’ve got to be more social.” Hercules shook his head at Alex’s obvious relief at being left to their own devices, “Make some more friends. It’ll do you good.”

“Would it though?” Hamilton wondered, “I’d sleep even less. I’m already stretched thin with the whole three and a half friends I currently have.”

“You say this like you spend anytime with us in the first place,” Hercules ruffled his hair, “We can barely get you away from the pen and paper of yours to spend five seconds with us, asshole.” Alex pushed Herc and Laf off of him and ran a hand through his hair to smooth down the strands that had been shaken out of place. 

“Maybe I’d spend more time with you guys if you didn’t call me an asshole every ten words.” Alex tried to sound serious but the small smile on his face may have given him away.

“Maybe I wouldn’t call you an asshole every ten words if you weren’t such an asshole.” Herc shot back easily. Lafayette snorted at the interaction without joining in. 

Alex was going to reply with something incredibly witty and clever but was distracted by something in his periphery before he had the chance. He turned to confirm his suspicion on what he just saw.

Yep.

Alex turned back to his friends who hadn’t noticed that they’ve lost his attention. 

“Yo, Laf.” Alex slapped the man on the arm to get his attention. 

“Yes, beau.” Lafayette smiled absentmindedly.

“Did Jefferson ever RSVP?”

“Ah, yes.” Lafayette answered, “I was surprised he knew about the party but I guess word gets around,” He tilted his head, “Why? Trying to avoid him.”

“Yeah,” Alex answered quickly, “Of course.” He tried to internalize the bubbling feeling in his stomach. “I have to pee.” He excused himself not-so-smoothly. He probably could have been more casual about his departure but Laf didn’t look like he cared much. 

He made a beeline for where he had caught a glimpse of Jefferson. He stumbled a little but he doubted any took notice of him. Jefferson had ended up settling beside James like he thought Jefferson would- he really needed to check what was going on between those two- and Hamilton easily sidled up to them.

“Hi.”

“What do you want?” James was the first to speak both southerners stared at him for a beat.

“I’m simply a host greeting the guest,” Hamilton grinned, “I want to make sure all party goers are having a good time.”

“You’re going up to every one?” Jefferson asked suspiciously.

“Yep.”

“Every single one.”

“Yes,” Alex lied, “Please do not think you are special.”

“I know I’m special.” Jefferson smirked.

“Whatever.” Alex rolled his eyes, “I know the truth.” He shoved one hand into a pocket and used the other to take a swig of the beer Herc had handed him. 

“Then what are you still doing here?” James tilted his head.

Alex fumbled with his words for a second. He opened his mouth to speak but didn’t come out. “I’m…” He trailed off, “Drunk.” He shrugged. It was true. The only reason he had the courage to stick around or even approach Jefferson in an attempt to have a normal conversation was because he was drunk. “I’m drunk and I don’t really feel like moving right now.” He swayed in place. “So you’re just gonna have to deal with that.” Madison’s eyebrows shot up at the comment.

“Okay?” Madison snorted, “Sounding even more childish than usual, Hamilton.”

“Give me a fucking break.” Alexander poked James’s chest; although it came off as more of a ‘boop’ than a ‘backoff’, “I’m drunk. Not functioning at full capacity.” 

Alexander polished off the rest of the beer once he noticed the look Jefferson was giving him. He probably looked like an idiot right now. Which sucked because that was something he hated being seen as. He could be called a loud mouth and abrasive and a million other things and he’d agree but the one thing he wasn’t was stupid. Alex straightened his back a bit to give the illusion of competence but now that he thought about it he was feeling the shots and drinks he’s been slamming back very keenly. 

“Are you ever at functioning capacity, Hamilton?” Jefferson inquired, “You live on zero hours of sleep.”

“I live on red bull and spite.” 

“Oh, that’s much better,” Jefferson shook his head, “That must explain why you’re always in such a good mood. Never argumentative. Very agreeable.”  
“I’m detecting some sarcasm.” Hamilton squinted, “And I’ll have you know I’m at my best on zero hours of sleep.”

“If that’s your best, then I’d hate to see your worst.” 

“Hey, my worst is fucking amazing,” Alex protested, “My worst is like other people’s hundred and ten percent.”

‘Then I’d really hate to meet those other people.” 

“You’re one of those other people.”

“That may actually be the worst thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Bullshit.” Hamilton said louder than intended, “If that’s the worst thing I’ve ever said to you then I have not been doing my job.”

“You make it your job to put me down?”

“I make it my job to make sure that when I see you getting too cocky, I bring you down.” Alex shrugged, “I’m keeping you grounded. You should thank me.”

“Should I?” Jefferson chuckled, “Because I’m not feeling very thankful.”

“Guess you just don’t know a good thing when it’s in front of you.” Alexander looked down at the empty bottle of beer in his hands. Jefferson didn’t respond immediately and Hamilton flicked his eyes up to glance at his face. He looked confused or at least a little taken aback by what Alex said. 

“I can tell when I’m not needed,” James said after a few more beats of silence, which startled Alexander because he genuinely forgot he was there. “So I’m going to go over there,” He pointed to the far corner on the other side of the room, “And you,” He swung his hand around to point at Jefferson, “Are not going to follow me.” He patted Jefferson on the arm and walked away leaving them alone in a sea of people.

_____________________________

What did that mean? He ‘didn’t know a good thing when it was in front of him’? Seriously, the fuck did that mean? It didn’t look like Hamilton was going to explain what he meant. He had gone suspiciously quiet. Of all the times in the world for Hamilton to gain the ability of shutting his mouth it was now. 

“So you speak three languages.” Thomas blurted out to keep the conversation going, “What’s with that?” He cringed at his wording and overall delivery of everything that just came out of his mouth but patted himself on the back for saying anything at all. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to keep up the conversation. All he knew was when he was doing his little back and forth thing with Hamilton he was at his most relaxed. It came easy.

“Uh,” Alex finally looked him in the eye again, “I’ve spoken English and French from birth and I learned Spanish when I moved to New York.” 

“How’d you learn Spanish?”

“I picked it up.” Alex shrugged, “We moved into a mostly Puerto Rican neighborhood. It was in my best interest to learn Spanish. So I did.”

“Just like that.” Thomas asked in disbelief, “You just learned another language?”

“Spanish is relatively easy to learn if you know French.”

“Is that a fact.”

“I haven’t conducted a study but I would say it’s grounded in science.” Hamilton defended his claim, “It’s like how riding a motorcycle is easier if you know how to ride a bike.”

“I don’t think that true either.”

“Can you prove me wrong?” Hamilton asked with a hint of irony in his voice, “I don’t think so.”

“First of all: the fact that I can’t prove you wrong doesn’t mean you’re right,” Thomas said, “Second of all: as someone who can ride a motorcycle, I will say-”

“You ride a motorcycle?” Hamilton interrupted. 

“Yeah,” Thomas replied, “I usually walk everywhere but I do have a motorcycle.”

“Do you wear a leather jacket?”

“Sure?” Thomas answered confused, “It gets drafty.”

“What about a helmet?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it like a full face helmet? Or like a half helmet?” 

“Why do you care?” 

“I've been thinking about getting a motorcycle.” Hamilton responded quickly. “I'm just curious.”

“You’re gonna get a motorcycle?” Thomas laughed, “You?” Thomas couldn't imagine the short man straddling a steel horse. He tried to imagine Hamilton on his motorcycle. And the image was amusing. Hamilton's legs dangling because they couldn't reach the ground. This image also provided Hamilton wearing an oversized leather jacket. Which was adorable. 

Why did Thomas think it was adorable? Or more importantly, why didn't he care that he thought it was adorable?

“I'll have you know that I can be very intimidating when I want to be,” Hamilton took offense to his disbelief, “I was in boot camp for like a month.”

“Oh, what were you? Rebel without a cause?”

“Please,” Hamilton huffed, “I had so many causes.”

“Really?” Thomas challenged, “Name some.”  
  
“Immigration, LGBT+ rights, the nation’s economic status, global warming, dogs,” Hamilton listed, “I could go on if you'd like.”

“No,” Thomas held his hands up in surrender, “I concede.”

“Thomas Jefferson conceding?” Hamilton asked, “To a point I made? Alert the presses!”

“Alright, alright,” Thomas shook his head, “Maybe I’ve dranken past my limit as well but in my defense y’all have some strong shit here.” Hamilton laughed and Thomas couldn't help but smile at the sound. He’s had the privilege of hearing it before, usually at his expense, but he’s never had any alcohol in his system to help him truly appreciate the warm noise. 

“This has nothing on our secret stash,” Hamilton said, “Our rooms is loaded with a bunch of shit that John brings home from visiting his family every year.”

“We aren’t aloud to have alcohol in the dorm rooms.” 

“We aren’t aloud to do a lot of things I do.” Hamilton shrugged, “I’m still a rebel at heart.”

“I’m glad bootcamp didn’t put that fire in your heart out,” Thomas snorted. He felt bad for whatever for whatever Sergeant or Major General had to deal with Hamilton. The man was already insufferable being told what to do no. He couldn’t imagine what a teen version would be like. 

“It was just a major waste of time. I don’t know who was the bright guy that thought being woken up at four am by a trumpet and getting yelled at twenty-four seven would be the solution to ‘troubled teens’ but I’d love to have a chat with him.” Hamilton almost looked wistfully recalling the memories as terrible as they sounded, “One good thing about the experience is I learned I cut quite the figure in a uniform. Seriously, I look fucking amazing in a military uniform. Ask Eliza. Ninety percent of the reason she ever agreed to date me was because she saw me in my uniform.” 

“I didn’t know you dated Eliza.” 

“How did you not know that?,” Hamilton questioned, “I don’t wanna toot my own horn or anything but we were kinda the big couple on campus for a few months during our freshman year. Then their was our whole breakup that I do not want to get into because I don’t come out on top in that story.” 

“What happened?”

“Okay, I’m just gonna say this, I did not sleep with that girl. She thought I did but I didn’t and Eliza thought I did but I didn’t and I thought I did but I didn’t. Turns out none of us can hold our alcohol and I am an idiot."

“Wow, you’d make an amazing politician; with the way you used all those words to say nothing at all.” Jefferson blew past the implication that Hamilton apparently cheated at one point. Or didn’t but was thought to. He prefered not to think about it. “I pray to God I never see your candidacy.”

“Wow, it is that sentence that starts my political journey to being president.” Hamilton took the bait to shift the topic easily, “Thanks for giving me the motivation to take over the world.” Jefferson chuckled at the statement but didn't but it past Hamilton to run for presidency just to spite him. “Now that I think about it, I'd be an amazing president. I'd be fair but firm. Kind but stern-” Hamilton's political platform was cut off before he could continue by Laurens sprinting up to them. 

“Dude, dude, dude,” Laurens tapped Hamilton on the shoulder in quick secession. “Code yellow.” Of course they had a color-coded code system. 

“I'm in the middle of a conversation.” Hamilton replied but sounded alarmed at what Laurens had said to him, “Can’t this wait?”

“Can this wait?” Laurens asked incredulously, “No, this can’t wait. Did you forget what a code yellow was?” 

“What exactly is a code yellow?” Jefferson interrupted. Laurens looked at him suspiciously before looking back at Hamilton. Hamilton only shrugged.

“We can only tell those who have been initiated.” Laurens finally answered, “If you really want to know, that’s the way to find out.” This is exactly why his sisters didn’t want him leaving the south for college. 

“Shut the fuck up, John.” Hamilton stopped his friend from going on any further, “He’s joking.” Hamilton reassured him. Was it reassurance? Wasn’t that a thing people did for people they were amicable with? Was he friendly with Hamilton? Was he becoming friends with Hamilton? “Code yellow is nothing.” Laurens gasped audibly at Hamilton’s dismissal of the code, “It’s just something we came up with in High School.” Hamilton glanced at Laurens before glancing back at Thomas, “But I should deal with this. Uh, see you later.” 

“Alright,” Thomas felt oddly disappointed at Hamilton’s departure, “See you.”

He shook off the empty feeling he felt after Hamilton disappeared with Laurens and went to look for James. He was ready to head home.

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on tumblr! @hamiltonhistory


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